


No Matter Where We Are (There's Magic)

by smolqueernerds



Category: The Ever Afters Series - Shelby Bach
Genre: F/F, I'm Sorry, all my favorite strong lady characters in love w/ each other, canon manipulated for the sake of the prompt, this is awful but I wrote it instead of watching BTVS so I'm posting it anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6330505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolqueernerds/pseuds/smolqueernerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five F/F Hogwarts AU prompt-based drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter Where We Are (There's Magic)

Prompt: we’re both in gryffindor tower and everyone is asleep except us, but it’s thunderstorming and i never noticed how loud thunder is up in this tower, haha, i’m a little freaked out, would you mind if i just sat in your bed with you? just until it’s over? absolutely no homo?

 

Rory's never given much thought to how good the acoustics in this dormitory are before. It's not really the kind of thing you think about until you're lying awake at 1 AM and three pillows and a down coverlet aren't enough to muffle the noise of the storm. Between the shrieking wind, the pounding rain, and the roaring thunder, it sounds like an angry mob's waiting outside. Honestly, she's a bit surprised the windows are still intact.

She's not scared of storms, though. She's just a light sleeper and she has a Charms test tomorrow and all this noise is stressing her out. Anyone in this situation would be bound to feel a bit tiny and helpless and lost and shaky and--

"Landon, for the love of God, you're keeping me up," comes Adelaide's drawl from the next bed over, sting only slightly softened by drowsiness. "It's not anywhere near cold enough for your teeth to be chattering like that."

Rory can feel a fever-hot blush forcing its way to her cheeks as she grits her teeth, jaw muscles tensing. She wants to hurl a barb right back at the other girl, or ask how she can sleep through the din outside but wake at the noise of her teeth, but all that she can manage is a small, humiliated "sorry."

"Oh, hold up." Adelaide's covers are unceremoniously flung halfway off her bed as she sits up, turning to look at Rory, who pulls her blanket as it can go. A flash of lightning illuminates her, stark white and gold against the blackness of the sky. "Did you just apologize to me? You never do that. Ever. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Rory spits out. "I'm just trying to sleep."

"Doing a great job of it, clearly." Adelaide is bringing the full acerbity of her tone to bear now, no longer mitigated by fatigue. "Come on, Landon, fess up. What's going on?"

"You're going to wake the others," Rory tried.

"Oh, please. They'd still be out cold if the roof got torn off. And so would you, most nights. What's different now?"

"It's just too loud, alright?!" In her frustration, Rory's voice comes out quite a bit louder and shriller than she intended. "Everything's just too noisy and I just want to sleep but I can't and God, Adelaide, will you please shut up!"

Even the storm falls silent for those few seconds.

Then, a distant rumble, and a renewed hammering of rain, and in a strangely calm and steady voice, Adelaide says, "Come over here."

"What?"

"I know you're not deaf, Landon. Get over here."

Without thinking, Rory finds herself succumbing to the strange quiet power of Adelaide's voice, climbing out of bed and padding over the freezing tiles to where she sits.

With a sweep of her arm, Adelaide pushed back the covers between her and Rory. "Well? Come on."

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I can't sleep while you're up, so I have no choice but to help you. Get. In."

And against her better judgment (which, in fairness, is now severely eroded by a potent mixture of fear and sleeplessness and Adelaide), Rory does, settling slowly into the unfamiliar mattress.

They lie next to each other without speaking, a quick, shallow rhythm of breaths and heartbeats echoing back and forth between them. 

"Alright," Adelaide says eventually, "try not to move or hit me or anything."

Rory barely has time to tense up before she feels soft, cool fingertips settling on the back of her neck. Slowly, they begin to trace small circles on her skin.

"Your fingers are cold," Rory whispers before she can think about it.

"Your neck is hot," Adelaide whispers back, her breath stirring Rory's hair. Her fingertips swirl back and forth on Rory's skin, gradually increasing their pace. It feels like she might be tracing words, though any letters are impossible to make out.

Once Rory's fear that this is some ploy of Adelaide's to render her vulnerable and then savage her with her fingernails (not that Adelaide would likely put her pretty nails to such ignominious use), it's a surprisingly relaxing sensation. Her eyes flutter halfway shut.

One hand suddenly leaves her neck, running lightly across her hair a moment later. The edge of Adelaide's palm ghosts over Rory's cheekbone.

"You have nice hair," Adelaide comments in a whisper. "Well, you could have nice hair, if you brushed it more, and did something about these god-awful split ends."

"Thanks," Rory says, choosing to assume that this is the Adelaide Radcliffe version of a compliment.

Adelaide snorts softly. "You're one weird kid, Landon."

"Yeah, well." Rory rolls onto her other side, towards Adelaide, who lets out a small sound of either surprise or indignation. "You're not too normal yourself, Radcliffe."

In the darkness, Adelaide's eyes have a strange liquid shine. Her lips part, as though she's about to say something. But instead, she closes her eyes and lays her head on her pillow, hair fanning out in cornsilk strands.

Assuming that this is her cue to leave, Rory begins a (somewhat reluctant) roll back towards the edge of the bed, but is abruptly stopped by a hand closing around her wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?" Adelaide asks, eyes still closed. "You'll let out all the heat, idiot."

Instead of apologizing, Rory tugs the covers up to her chin, scoots ever so slightly closer to the other girl and shuts her eyes.

(And if one girl wakes up with the other's arm wrapped around her waist and nose pressed into her hair, there's no reason for her to say anything about it.)

(It wouldn't do to complain now. Spring is storm season in this part of Britain, after all.)


End file.
